OneWay Ticket
by king6475
Summary: Zombies invade San Andreas, and the only ones who can stop them are a group of unlikely heroes. Read and review, please. 83106: Ch.11 updated! Finally!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The chapter format in this story is not my original idea. You know, how every chapter begins with "Chapter #/Narrator's Name/Time." I just thought it would be a good idea to use this kind of format in this story. **

A military experiment gone wrong. Undead creatures stalking the streets, killing anyone in their path. Instant death throughout the streets of San Andreas, and the rest of America. Instant Death. It's kinda funny, isn't it? Sounds like something you'd find at a grocery store, huh?

"A box of Dracul-O's...three cartons of milk...and two cups of Instant Death. Your total comes to $10.74, sir."

But maybe I'm getting off subject here. I'll start from the beginning. No, wait...scratch that. I'll start from _my_ beginning. The beginning of _my_ story.

**Chapter 1**

**Jay Box**

**1:27 AM, Monday**

Man, was I bored off my ass as I drove through Whetstone that night. Not to mention sleepy. And fearing for my life. With my radio turned off and the car clock reading 1:27, I was ready to hit the sack. But I couldn't. You see, I was on the run. On the run from those bastards. Those bastards who had seemingly risen from the sewers three hours ago. Those bastards who had clawed a poor old woman in the face and eaten her alive, right before my very eyes. Those bastards who caused me to hightail it over to my Remington and get the hell outta there. Those bastards. Those creatures. Those...zombies.

I stopped at a 24/7 on the side of the road, got out of the car, and yawned. The only reason I had stopped here was because I was starving. I hadn't eaten since yesterday, and even then, it had only been a light burger and salad. I trudged into the store and looked around. Damn. Looks like those monsters had already been here. Food and other items were strewn along the ground. Three of the windows were broken and there was no cashier at the register. Oh well, I thought to myself. Don't have much money anyways. I pulled a box of Saltine crackers from a nearby shelf, tore it open, and greedily wolfed down the contents. I didn't care if the zombies found me right now. I was just glad I wouldn't have to die on an empty stomach.

After I had finished the box (told you I was hungry), I walked up and down the different aisles, checking for any equipment that might be useful. I found a box of matches and a few water bottles. As I was leaving the store, something behind the register caught my eye. A pump shotgun stood propped against the corner. I hopped the counter and picked up the gun. That's weird, I thought. It's full. You'd think the owner would have at least attempted a heroic last stand against the zombies. Oh well. More ammo for me.

The doorbell dinged as I left the store. Weird. It hadn't gone off when I walked in. I'd always hated those dumb things. It's fitting that this one would probably be the cause of my death, with its loud, zombie-attracting "Breep!" Yikes. Better get out of here before they show up. My plan was to flee the infested state of San Andreas, and eventually, flee the country. I could only hope that there were no zombies in Canada.

I strode to my car, taking in the crisp country air as I moved. I was unusually calm for a guy whose hometown had just been attacked by mutant freaks. Well, I _was_ unusually calm, until I saw that gruesome sight right against the front wall of the store.

"Oh, crap!" I exclaimed.

The cashier's mutilated body was lying in a broken position in front of the wall. His mangled face, along with the rest of his equally-mangled body, was caked with dried blood, facial tissue, dirt, and God knows what else. And to make matters worse, one of his arms had been violently torn off. Oh, man. This was too much for me. I retched horribly in the parking lot. The crackers I had just eaten violently left my system, along with that burger, salad, and Sprunk from yesterday. Dang it, now I'm hungry again!

After I was done with that, I slowly walked to the car and got in. The happy feeling had left me and I was suddenly fearing for my life once again. I didn't dare turn the radio on, for fear of it attracting any "unwanted company." The clock now read 2:00. I had to get some sleep, but where? Then I remembered that there was an Ammu-Nation nearby. I could restock my gun supply there. Heck, I thought, It's worth a try. I drove into Angel Pine and found the store. Since the door was hanging halfway off its hinges, I let myself in. With the night being as dark as it was, and me being as stupid as I was, I tripped on a footstool that had been placed next to the door. An "Oof!" escaped my mouth as I fell flat on my face. Crap. Now my mouth is bleeding, I thought as I picked myself up off the ground. I felt my way around the store as I searched for the bathroom. Luckily, it wasn't too far from the front door. I got inside, turned on the water, and grabbed a Kleenex. I held the tissue under the water for a few seconds and then put it to my bleeding lip. I stood there in silence, waiting for the slow trickle of blood to subside. Yikes, I noticed. There's bodies in the bathtub. A woman and a kid. Hey, the woman has a bullet hole in her head!

Just then, the door flung open again, and in stepped a zombie with a gun. I nearly pissed myself and died as I saw him appear in the mirror behind me. Suddenly, I had a thought. Zombie with a gun? That's no zombie, it's a human!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Eric Mercer**

**2:23 AM, Monday**

Hands trembling, I cocked my gun and pointed it at the zombie in my bathroom. I didn't know what to think when he turned to face me. He didn't really look like a zombie. White guy with messy black hair, about six feet, medium build. I couldn't be too sure, though.

"Who are you?" the man asked cautiously, looking me over.

"You first." I replied, still not lowering my gun. I wasn't about to take any chances.

"My name is Jay Box." he answered. "I came here to get some weapons. I'm from Los Santos, and I was one of the only ones alive there."

Sounds like a human, I thought. Looks like one too.

"What are you doing in Angel Pine if you're from Los Santos?" I asked, still wary.

Jay stared at me as if I was the dumbest person he had ever seen.

"Uh, I don't know if you know, but we've got a little infestation going on. We've got zombies here, dipshit. And being the smart, God-fearing zombie-hater that I am, I thought it would be a good idea to get as far away from Los Santos as possible."

"Oh. Right." I muttered. What a jerk this guy is.

"No, wait. I'm sorry." Jay said. "I didn't mean to go off on you like that. I'm tired, scared, and hungry. I can't help it if I'm a little hot under the collar right now."

Oh, I realized. Never mind.

"Who are you, anyways?" he asked.

"My name's Eric Mercer. I own this store."

"Alright then. Mind if I just call you Mercer?"

I raised a curious eyebrow, but replied:

"No problem."

"Hey, you got any good weapons around here?" he asked me.

"Unfortunately, no. Most of it was destroyed when the zombies attacked."

Jay shrugged.

"Hey, did you know there's some dead people in your bathtub?

I winced.

"Yes." I answered quietly.

"Ok, goodnight Mercer. I'm gonna hit the hay."

Sleeping here? I thought. Hell no you're not. Not with all these things going on.

"The hell you are!" I retorted, grabbing Jay's arm and pulling him out of the bathroom.

"Noooo..." Jay groaned, as I led him out of the house. I shoved him into the backseat of my car and I got into the front. I could tell the poor dude was really sleepy, but I didn't want to leave him here and risk him getting killed.

"You can sleep in my car." I offered. He grunted in reply, and I could only assume that he meant, "Way ahead of you."

We woke up that morning at 6:40, according to my watch. Damn, I thought. I fell asleep too, didn't I? I was glad that we were still alive, but I did not want to let that happen again. Next time, we might not be so lucky. A "CLUNK" behind me told me that Jay had fallen asleep again, but not before smacking his head against the door. Better hit the road, I thought, and get out of here while there's still time. Unfortunately, if we had woken up five minutes earlier, and left five minutes earlier, we would have escaped the zombie ambush that occurred next.

The first one came down from the trailer roof and slashed at my windshield. Of course he scared the living shit out of me. Aiming to keep my car as intact as possible, I regained my composure, reached out my window and shot the zombie point-blank in the face. His grip loosened instantly and he flopped to the ground. Two more zombies came lumbering out from behind the corners. They both walked with a limp, but that didn't seem to slow either of them down at all. The first one flew onto my roof and slashed at it. Jay, who was now wide awake, pumped his shotgun, jammed it into the ceiling of my car, and blew the zombie clear into the sky. Meanwhile, I reached back out the window and shot out the second zombie's right leg. He roared in pain and collapsed to the ground, and that was when I decided to gun the engine. Body tissue, bone fragments and blood exploded from the zombie as my car smashed into him head-on, knocking him out of the street and into a nearby wall. Then, about five new zombies stumbled out from behind the Ammu-Nation. Or at least that's what Jay said. I didn't dare look back.

"Go! Go!" Jay was screaming frantically. "Don't stop!"

I breathed a sigh of relief as we got onto the freeway five minutes later, away from the zombies. I didn't know where I was going, but it didn't matter. It was now 7:00 exactly. The rising sun was peeking through the trees around us, drenching everything in a yellow-orange glow. But Jay and I didn't have much time to celebrate. Further up the road, at the next intersection, were three, maybe four army men. They were being attacked by another swarm of zombies. I knew I had to get in there and help out.

My car skidded to a stop as Jay and I jumped out, him with his shotgun and me with my old-fashioned 9mm. Jay cocked the shotgun and fired at the first zombie, blowing a hole clear through his midsection. I fired my gun at another zombie, taking out both his legs. The army men, having regained their confidence at the sight of two new men with guns, snatched up their M4s and shot at the zombies too. Deciding that my 9mm was not very effective against these guys, I dropped it and took an M4. A steady stream of bullets poured from the barrel as I shot at every zombie in sight. Chunks of flesh and showers of blood rained down as the zombies were decimated by the combined force of me, Jay, and the army men.

"Oh shit! Look over there!" came a voice that I didn't recognize.

I did as I was told. From the bridge behind us came another onslaught of zombies. They were pulling themselves onto the bridge, up from the creek below, and were slowly coming towards us.

"Everybody get back." ordered the same voice. I turned in its direction and saw one of the army men, with a rocket launcher strapped to his back. The guy unshouldered the large weapon and knelt down on one knee. Steadying the rocket launcher in front of him, he slapped it on the side, loading the next rocket down into the tube. Then he fired. What happened next was a result with mixed emotions. The zombies on the bridge, along with some of the ones who were already on the road, went up in a blazing fireball and fell into the creek. Unfortunately, so did the bridge.

"You idiot! That was our only way into the city!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Jay Box**

**7:30 AM, Monday**

Well, this has been strange. In the last twenty-four hours, I've seen a woman eaten by zombies, seen a mutilated body, lost my lunch, given myself a fat lip, nearly been killed by a store owner, attacked by zombies, and attacked by zombies again. Man, I could write a hell of a book if I ever get out of this alive.

This Mercer guy...he seems like a loner. Well, actually, I guess he is if he's running a gun shop in the middle of nowhere, but still. Oh well, he seems a lot brighter than Trigger-Happy over here. Dumbass blew up the bridge. Where did he get that rocket launcher anyway? We could have used it earlier. Some soldier. Hey, what's that noise?

"Sssh!" I ordered the quarreling soldiers, who were blaming Trigger-Happy for his stupidity.

"Listen."

"I don't hear anything." muttered another soldier, who I had nicknamed Control Freak.

I glared at him, just as another low, guttural moan passed through the trees.

"Whoa! What was that?" asked Mercer.

"I think they found us." I answered.

"Who found us?" asked Soul Patch.

"They did. The other zombies."

Trigger-Happy took a few steps backwards. Whatever was in the trees was scaring him really badly. I mean, it was scaring all of us, but this guy looked like he was about to crap himself. Soul Patch and Control Freak turned, just in time to see Trigger-Happy running for his life.

"Watch out!" warned Soul Patch. But it was too late. Trigger-Happy tripped headlong over a piece of metal lying in the road. As he fell to the ground, the rocket launcher flew off his back and discharged a shell. It smashed into a hill, creating an ear-splitting explosion.

"Shit!" Mercer screamed. "You idiot!"

Just then, we heard the moan again, louder this time. Trigger-Happy got back up to his feet and slowly walked back to us. As he stopped, more moaning sounds were heard, and each one was louder than the last. The five of us huddled together, guns drawn. Then the sounds stopped. Just like that, they stopped.

Trigger-Happy sighed. All of a sudden, a zombie burst out from atop the tree. It scrambled towards Trigger-Happy and latched onto his chest. Trigger-Happy screamed bloody murder as the zombie dug his claws deep into his flesh. Acting fast, Control Freak snatched up a gun and fired, dislodging the zombie from Trigger-Happy's body.

"Oh my God, man!" cried Soul Patch. "Are you all right?"

Mercer and I exchanged looks. What a moron, I thought. No, Trigger-Happy is not all right. The most insecure guy in the group falls on his ass and gets attacked by a zombie, probably getting a heart attack in the process. He is _not_ gonna be all right.

Trigger Happy turned to face us. His chest was bleeding, his eyes were red, and...well, let's just say I learned something new about these zombies. They can infect humans.

Control Freak and Soul Patch stood petrified with fear as Trigger-Happy came towards them, arms outstretched. Oh, come on! Where's a real army man when you need one? I pulled my shotgun off my shoulder and decapitated Trigger-Happy with one shot. The strong, courageous army men behind me sighed as the headless zombie formerly known as Trigger-Happy slumped to the ground. Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it.

A horde of zombies came down from the mountains, heading for the group of humans standing idly on the freeway. Control Freak was the first to notice. Without even telling us why, he screamed and took off. Asshole. I was glad the zombies got to him before he even got twenty feet away. Although I could have done without the infecting part. Control Freak, too, became one of the living undead as he turned around and began walking menacingly in the opposite direction. Mercer, Soul Patch and I ran for Mercer's Greenwood, which was still sitting in the middle of the road. The three of us got in the car and sped off, knocking down zombies like bowling pins. They flew through the air like ragdolls and rained back down onto the car.

San Fierro, here we come.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Eric Mercer

8:24 AM

"Mercer."

I focused on the road before me as I drove. It was a heart-wrenching sight, really. I had been in San Fierro only two days ago, with Sarah and Jimmy. Two days can really make a difference.

One day, everything is great. The sun is shining, people are on the streets talking, hell, you might even see a cop chase. You're pushing your son's stroller down the street, your beautiful wife at your side. Your son says, "Birdy! Daddy, a birdy!" and you and your wife can't help but chuckle at your young, yet strangely observant son. You pass by a fast-food joint and see the people inside. They're talking, laughing, and comparing things they just got at the mall. Then you get a whiff of the unusual scent that is billowing from the roof. It smells salty and dirty, and you hate it. It stands for everything that is wrong with fast-food today. You never think you would miss that smell.

"Hey, Mercer."

Then everything changes. You're sitting in your shop, reading a magazine, and you hear glass breaking. "Sarah? Jimmy? Is everything all right back there?" you call, as you head for the back room. The next thing you see shatters your heart. Your wife lies on the ground, screaming. Your little boy lies dead, his death having been caused by something you never want to see again. Two grotesque, human-looking creatures stand over his body, blood dripping from their claws. Then, one of them slashes your wife. She dies, and you scream. You run into the next room, grab a gun, and shoot it at the creatures. You watch as they retreat back out the window, back into the wilderness. Suddenly, a moan catches your attention. It's your wife, but now she resembles one of those things. Your son stands up, and to your horror, he is a Thing too. You are followed into the bathroom, where...

"Dammit, Mercer! Can't you hear me?"

I turned around to face Jay.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Where's your family?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Jay Box**

**8:25 AM**

"I'm sorry, what?" Mercer asked, trying to dance around my question.

"You heard me. Where is your family?"

"I don't have one." he answered, turning back to face the road.

"Bullshit. You wouldn't have a four-door Greenwood if you were single. You need people to use those doors." I answered. This guy was definitely hiding something.

"This isn't my car. I stole it earlier."

"Eric, I'm a cop. I can tell when people are lying."

He sighed. Ha! I must have struck a nerve.

"They're dead. I killed them." he replied, his voice cracking.

Soul Patch and I looked at each other. Then I turned to face Mercer, or at least the back of his driver's seat.

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't know."

I felt like an asshole. I had rudely pressured this poor guy into giving up his darkest secret.

"It's alright. Like you said, you didn't know." he said.

"What happened?" Soul Patch suddenly asked.

I rolled my eyes. Okay, I'm officially changing this guy's nickname to Nail in the Coffin, I told myself.

"The zombies got them. I had to kill them."

Good enough for me, I decided. This is none of my business.

"How?" Nail in the Coffin asked.

"Arrgh! Shut up!" I cried.

The car stopped, and Mercer turned to face us. Unsurprisingly, his face was streaked with tears. Heck, I didn't blame him. I'd cry too if I had Nail in the Coffin in my car.

"You think you've seen it all." he said. "You never thought you'd have to kill your own wife and son. But you love them so much, you can never bear to see them sick. It tears you apart. If death is the only way to end their suffering, then so be it."

"Oh, I see. Like Old Yeller." said Nail in the Coffin.

I glared at him. This guy was officially the dumbest human being I've ever met. It's people like him that cause others to commit suicide.

"You know, the dog?" he said, having gotten no response.

Oh, thanks for clearing that up, because I thought you meant Old Yeller the dancing rabbit. Idiot.

"Yeah. It's kind of like Old Yeller." muttered Mercer, who was also growing annoyed.

"Why is it 'kind of?'" asked The Dumbass With The Soul Patch Who Puts The Nail In The Coffin.

"Because Old Yeller is a dog. In a book. I'm talking about humans, and real life. I had to kill my wife and my son to put them out of their misery."

"Totally like Old Yeller!" cried The Dumbass Who Pissed In The Gene Pool.

I socked him in the face. How this guy ever got into the Army, I'll never know.

"Hey, guys. Do you smell that?" asked Mercer.

"Is that gasoline?" I asked. I would have used the word 'gas' but I knew Dumbass would have made an immature joke if I did.

"Let's see."

Mercer and I exited the car and went around back. Sure enough, there was a trail of gas leading from the gas tank. I don't know how, or when we lost the gas tank cover, but I knew that it would be unsafe to keep using the car. Just then, Mercer tapped me on the shoulder.

"Look."

Two zombies stood in the distance, maybe thirty feet away. One of them was holding a cigarette lighter.

"Oh, shit." I muttered. Not good.

Mercer went back and pounded on the car window.

"Come on, you've gotta get out of there.

"What?" Dumbass asked.

The zombie with the lighter pulled back his arm, preparing to throw.

"Get out of there!"

"What? I can't hear you."

The arm went forwards and the lighter arced through the air.

"Get the fuck out, dumbass!" Mercer screamed, as he used the butt of his gun to shatter the window. He threw the door open, yanked Dumbass from his seat and they raced over to the side of the road. The lighter landed, landing perfectly in the puddle of gasoline. The three of us covered our heads as the car caught fire. The zombies, having done their job, ran back into the bushes.

"You sir, are an idiot. A Grade-A idiot." I muttered to Dumbass, as the three of us stood in the grass. I couldn't help it. This guy needed some real common sense knocked into him.

"The whole time, you have done noth--"

Just then, the car exploded in a ball of fire. Mercer and I dived out of the way, landing at the bottom of the hill.

"Oh, man." I muttered.

"You ok?" Mercer asked.

I nodded. "You?"

"I'm fine."

"Hey Dumbass, are you..." My voice trailed off. There, a few feet above us, lay Dumbass' body.

"Is he dead?" asked Mercer, as we went to take a closer look.

We gasped. A long metal pipe was lodged in Dumbass' head. Apparently, it had gone in through the back and come out through the front.

"Oh yeah. He's dead."

"Well, you don't see that every day." marveled Mercer.

"Now what?" I asked in exasperation, ignoring Mercer's comment.

"We're gonna have to walk."

"Walk? There's zombies everywhere! You can't take a piss without getting attacked by a zombie! And they're intelligent, too! They knew how to set our car on fire!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry, Jay. We have no choice. If you wanna find us a car, be my guest. If you're not getting us a car, then we might as well start our little trek now."

"Alright then," I sighed.

"Keep your gun ready." he warned me.

"Damn, it's running low."

"There's more back there." he said, pointing to the site where we had previously fought alongside the three worst army men in history. I shuddered.

"Meh. I'll take my chances."

"Suit yourself. Let's go."

We started off towards the city.

It was 8:55 when we got into San Fierro.

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked.

"We'll be there soon." Mercer said, without looking back. I rolled my eyes. That didn't even answer my question.

I was glad we had gotten into San Fierro unscathed, but I couldn't help but think we were being watched. There were so many places for them to hide. I scanned left and right, searching for any signs of human life. Nothing. Were we the only humans left in San Fierro? I thought to myself. Nah. There has to be other people out here. If the army men were able to keep themselves alive, there has to be other people out here.

"Wanna go in?"

The voice shook me from my thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

Mercer had stopped to look at a Burger Shot on the side of the road.

"Do you wanna go in?" he asked again. "There might be some food in there. Maybe even humans, if we're lucky."

"Sure," I answered, as the two of us headed to the door.

We sat at one of the booths, each eating a burger. It was only your typical Burger Shot cheeseburger, but at least it was food. Plus, it was still clean. Like zombies hadn't gotten to it.

"Hey, Mercer." I said suddenly.

He looked up from his food.

"What's up?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"Excuse me for asking, but what _did _happen to your family?"

Mercer sat back and let out a heavy sigh.

"Whoa, man. You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I was just curious."

"No, it's okay. You should know."

I set my burger down and began to listen.

"It was only yesterday. We were all in the Ammu-Nation. I was up in the front and Sarah and Jimmy were in the back room."

"Sarah and Jimmy?"

"Oh, sorry. My wife and son. So anyways, I hear a noise back there. Sounded like breaking glass. So, of course I go to see what the problem is. I get back there, and there's two zombies back there. Sarah's lying on the ground screaming and Jimmy's been clawed to death. Now keep in mind, I had never seen these zombies before. It was dark, and they looked like humans. I thought they were rapists. The first one kills Sarah and turns to face me. Now I know they're not human. I run into the other room and take a Desert Eagle off the counter."

"You kept a loaded Desert Eagle in the room right next to your son's?"

"Hey, who's telling the story here?"

"Right. My bad."

"Besides, the safety was on. Yeah, so anyways, I take the gun and shoot it at them. I hit one in the stomach, and they both haul ass out the window. Then, Sarah stands up, and she's a zombie. Jimmy does the same. And the whole time I'm crying out of total grief, sadness, and confusion, right?. I run into the bathroom and they follow me. I back up against the wall as Jimmy comes in. He's in before Sarah. I look into his eyes, and Jimmy's not there. Nothing...is there, you know? Sarah's the same way. Now they're moaning, wailing, slashing at me, so I draw my gun. I shoot Sarah in the side of the head and she falls past me, into the tub. I somehow bring myself to shoot Jimmy, and he, too, falls into the tub."

The bodies in the bathtub, I realized. No wonder Mercer acted so weird when I told him, back at his store. They were his own wife and kid! And he's the one who shot them!

Mercer shook his head.

"You never see things the same way after something like that. Never see things in the same light anymore. It leaves a void in your heart that can't be filled. I mean, when you're driven to shoot your own wife and two year-old son, just to put them out of their misery, something just leaves you. You know?"

"No." My voice choked. "I've never experienced that. And for the sake of me and my friends, I hope to God I never have to."

An awkward silence hung in the Burger Shot. So many things were rushing through my head at once. I didn't know how to react.

"So...have you been working at Ammu-Nation all your life?" I ventured clumsily.

"Just about."

"Oh. Cool."

There it is again. That silence.

"You know something, Jay? I'm glad I was able to tell somebody." Mercer said quietly.

"Yeah. I'm glad you were, too." I replied, not really paying attention.

Damn silence! I think I can hear myself think!

"You done with that burger? I wanna get going soon." declared Mercer.

"Yeah, sure. Let's get out of here. This place is getting creepy for some reason."

Mercer stood up first. His shoes sloshed against the ground as he walked, something wet on the bottoms.

"Dude, what is that on your shoes?"

"I don't know. Zombie guts?"

"Too bad. You know what? I bet there's gonna be a whole bunch of zombies outside, waiting for us to exit this restaurant. I just know it."

Mercer shrugged and threw open the door.

Aw, dammit. I'm a frickin' psychic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Eric Mercer**

**10:04 AM**

I felt so much better, having told Jay about it. Of course, like I had told him, nothing can fill that hole that something like that leaves. But telling him sure made the hole a hell of a lot smaller.

As we neared the door, Jay said something about zombies outside. Lost in my thoughts, I shrugged and opened the door.

About ten zombies stood in a cluster before us as we got outside. Their bodies were streaked with blood and some of them had limbs missing. One guy had an arm missing, one had a chunk missing from his head, and one had both his legs _and_ one of his arms gone!

"Aw, man! Looks like King Arthur got to these guys before we did!" said Jay in mock disappointment.

I shook my head. No matter what the situation, this guy could find humor in it. That's a good quality, I noted.

"So maybe we should go back inside?"

I shook my head.

"Or we can run away. Or fight. Your choice, bud."

I ignored him. At other times, he could be really annoying.

"That M4 still work?" I asked, gesturing towards the large gun strapped to his back.

"I reckon so."

"Get on it, then."

Taking a few steps backwards, Jay reached back and unshouldered his gun. As he did so, I reached into the two holsters on the sides of my belt and produced my two Colt Pythons. I had been saving these for a special occasion, and right now seemed special enough. Since I had swiped these guys from the shelf on the front desk of my store, I had never actually used a Python before, let alone two at the same time. But how hard could it be, right?

Oh, how wrong I was. The recoil blew me backwards into the Burger Shot door. The bullet went wide and whizzed off into the sky. I couldn't believe it. I had been the manager of an Ammu-Nation for ten years and I couldn't even shoot a goddamn Python?

I scrambled to my feet and took aim again. I was determined to get a hit in. This time, I squeezed both triggers. One bullet crashed into a tree, but the other one took a zombie right in the gut. He toppled backwards but was back on his feet in no time. I swore under my breath and glanced at Jay. Jay, on the other hand, was doing fine. Blasting zombies left and right. Rotten flesh flying into the air. It's like he was actually _trying _to make me look bad.

"Mercer!" he called. "How ya' doing over there?"

"Fine! Just fine!" I replied, caught up in the process of reloading my gun.

Just then, my hand slipped and the Python dropped to the ground. The extra bullets fell after it, hitting the ground and scattering themselves everywhere.

"Dammit." I muttered. At least I still had the second Python. Gripping the...well, grip in both hands, I shot off a few more rounds. This time, I was more fortunate. One bullet struck a zombie straight in the forehead. He sank to his knees and keeled over, dead. The next two took out one of the guys near Jay. The fourth bullet, however, wasn't that helpful. It whizzed through the air and tore off one of the monster's hands. He turned towards me and let out a feral cry. With his arms hanging towards the ground, he began to sort of gallop towards me, picking up speed as he got closer. And this guy was coming fast. I mean, really fast. I reacted by doing the first thing that came to mind: shielding my face.

A gunshot erupted. I slowly opened my eyes. The zombie in front of me had stopped. He had a pained, yet somewhat calmed expression on his face as he slumped to the ground. I sighed and nodded my thanks to Jay. He nodded back.

"So, where now?" I asked.

"We have to enter the city. Check for any people that might still be alive. Then we'll make our way to the Garver Bridge. Then into the desert, and then into Las Venturas. And then we'll get out of here. Or we'll be tragically killed in a painful fashion on the way, I dunno."

"Alright, fair enough."

"Hey, is there an Ammu-Nation in San Fierro?" Jay asked. "I'm running out here."

I shrugged.

"Probably. I don't know where one is, though."

10:35 AM.

We had been walking for twenty minutes. The road and everything else nearby was eerily quiet. I stopped in my tracks, though, when that silence was broken.

"Jay?"

Jay stopped and turned to face me.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You hear that?"

"Um...no."

"You don't? Wait, there it is again."

We both shut up for a minute, trying to listen.

"Dude, you're full of crap. There's nothing there." he stated. Quite rudely, I might add.

"No, I know I heard something."

Suddenly his eyes went wide.

"Hey!" Jay called to something I couldn't see.

Without warning, he took off. Unshouldering his gun, he raced for the building nearest us. Flipping out the chamber of my Python, I loaded in a few bullets and followed Jay.

A girl stood against the west wall of the Avispa Country Club. With a half-eaten hot dog in one hand and a nine-iron in the other, she seemed pretty calm. Coolly tapping her nine-iron against the wall in a steady rhythm, she didn't seem at all concerned about the current events. Or even aware of them, actually.

" 'Scuse me, miss." said Jay as he stepped up. "You alright?"

She shot him a wary, suspicious glance.

"Yeah. Shouldn't I be?"

"Well, I don't know if you know this, but there is actually a zombie invasion of San Andreas going on right now. Didn't you hear the gunfire up the road earlier? At all?"

"Of course I heard it, you idiot. I'm not deaf. Or stupid. I just happen to know how to take care of myself."

She nodded at the golf club at her side, which seemed to have a little blood on the wedge. I shook my head in disbelief. No way could she have fended off a horde of zombies with a golf club. I mean, geez, how could she even let them get that close?

"Well, my friend and I are on our way into San Fierro. Eventually, we're going to escape San Andreas. We're only armed with a few firearms, but we were thinking of restocking our supply. We could use another person in our group. Would you like to tag along?"

Wow. For a cop, he seems pretty welcoming towards strange people.

"Tag along? Is that all you think women are good for, just tagging along?" the girl spat angrily.

Oh no, Jay, get outta there! She's gonna blow!

"Oh..uh, no, that's not what I meant at all!" Jay stammered nervously.

"'Cause if that's what you think, you can take that gun you've got there, and shove it up your ass."

"Sorry. Let me rephrase my question. Would you like to join our group and aid us in battling the zombies and escaping the state? We could really use somebody like you."

And for the first time, the girl smiled.

"That's better."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Jill Drake**

**10:45 AM**

Was I doing the right thing, joining this guy? He looks like he can handle himself. Of course, he's a vile sexist dinosaur, but that's another story. Beats standing around here, though. And the other guy. Who's he? He hasn't said anything yet. Better not be like his friend.

"So, what's your name?"

"Huh?"

"What's your name?" So the quiet guy was talking to me. First thing I've heard him say.

"Oh, uh, Jill. Jill Drake."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Eric Mercer." He extended his hand.

What a little brown-noser. Probably just wants into my pants.

I shook his hand anyways.

"Nice to meet you too. So who's your friend?"

Eric glanced up the road. The other guy was walking way ahead of us, his gun held across his chest in a "heroic" pose like he was Rambo or something. He seemed to twitch at every single sound, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

"Oh, his name's Jay. He's a cop from...I don't even know. He's a good guy though."

"You've got to be kidding me. He's a cop?" I asked in disbelief.

"So where you from?" Eric asked me, ignoring my question.

"I'm from Bone County. Las Barrancas."

"Ah." He nodded. "_The Ravines,_ right?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah, I think so."

"So what are you doing here in Fierro?"

"Well I was at the driving range when they attacked. One of 'em, like, chopped up the guy that was next to me. Turned him right into mincemeat. Sliced him, diced him, marked him with a 'B.' Then he came at me too, but I smacked him off the platform. See?"

I showed him my club, which had a dried spot of blood caked on it.

"Nice. So you just made your way past the zombies, armed only with a golf club?"

"Yep."

"No guns at all?"

"_Nada."_

"Just that nine-iron there?"

My God, is this guy deaf? How many times have I answered 'yes' to his stupid question already?

"Just this nine-iron here. No guns, no bombs, no fancy fighting moves, just this guy here. Ok?"

Eric shrugged and turned his head the other way, trying to avoid the icy glare that was probably emanating from my eyes.

"If you say so."

He turned his eyes back to the road and called to his friend.

"Hey, Jay! Where are we going?"

"Ammu-Nation, remember?" he answered, not bothering to face us.

"Oh, that's right. Do you know where it is?"

"Um...no." And with that, he stopped dead in his tracks.

I rolled my eyes. Son of a bitch, we had already passed the place.

"It's back in Hashbury. We passed it up, you moron."

This time he turned in our direction.

"Hashbury? You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Oh yeah! Near that mod shop, right? Wheels-Angel-something?"

"Yeah, you got it. I think we should start going the other way, don't you?" I muttered, rolling my eyes again.

And we did. Jay ran ahead of us and lead us on again.

"I'll stay up front. Just in case anything tries to attack us, I'll be ready."

What the hell? What does he think he's doing? If the little bastard is trying to impress me, he's doing a piss-poor job.

"He can be kind of a jerk sometimes, huh?" Eric said to me, grinning.

"Sometimes? He's an asshole!" I exclaimed, lowering my voice. You know what he said to me earlier? He wanted me to "tag along" with you guys. Tag along! As if that's all I'm good for!"

As soon as I had said that, I noticed the expression change in this guy's face at once.

"Whoa, calm down." he said. "What are you talking about?"

Oooh, big mistake. Rule #8 of general male-female conversations: Never tell a woman to calm down. But he seemed genuinely concerned, so I let it go.

"I know. It's my fault anyways. I've just had this...thing against men lately. Especially men with guns."

He laughed.

"Oh, I've gotta hear this one." he said obnoxiously, as if this were all a big joke to him.

"Are you kidding me? Do you even know how to talk to women?"

That got him.

"Oh...uh...shit."

"About a month ago, my sister was murdered. Right in front of me. It was a drive-by shooting. She wasn't the target though, but she was killed anyways. It was a botched hit on those Rollin' Heights Ballas. This Greenwood came screaming up the street, with four men hanging out the windows. One of the Ballas was killed, but it was mostly civilians that were hit. Including this poor kid's dog."

"Oh, man. I'm really sorry. No idea, you know?"

"Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and torso. She was pronounced dead at the scene."

"Wow. So do you know which one of them killed her, by any chance? Or was it all of them?"

"No. It was all of them, of course. But I recognized one of the shooters from the news. It was that Carl Johnson guy. You've heard of him, right?"

"Oh yeah. Came back from Liberty City after a five-year leave. Because of his mother's death or something?"

"Something along those lines. If I ever get my hands on that fucker, I swear to God..."

I felt so relieved to finally let all this out. In front of someone who seemed to really care. I had totally misjudged Eric. He wasn't the brightest star in the sky, but he was really nice. Maybe I ought to give Jay another chance too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Jay Box**

**1:23 PM**

Where are those guys? I wondered. I needed help, and fast. These zombies were closing in on me. With my ammo running low, and my energy running low as well, I would be screwed if Mercer and Jill didn't get here fast enough.

But suddenly a gunshot rang out, and one of the zombies in front of me slumped forwards, revealing Mercer and the smoking barrel of his Colt Python. He grinned.

"Are we too late, buddy?"

I sighed. Thank God.

"Just in time." I answered.

Jill appeared on the other side of the alley, holding the gun I had given her.

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Likewise."

But it was no time for niceties. A new swarm of zombies entered the alleyway, filling it once again with their horrific screams and wails. Jill ran towards us and joined Mercer and I as we began to shoot. The first line of zombies was fallen instantly as my M4 sprayed them from side to side. We wasted no time in shooting, as we all knew they couldn't get too close. I mean, that's mostly a given, but when you've got an undead army of zombies coming right at you, you've really gotta hold your ground. Take them out before they get too close, because God only knows what they can do to you if they get their hands on you. Kill you, infect you, it's all the same. And if you don't have a gun, you better run like hell. Run, and keep running until you can run no more. And even then, force yourself to keep running. Just hope that they're merciful. That they kill you in the least painful way they can.

I was interrupted from my thoughts when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped a mile as I felt the hand on me. Swinging my gun around, I was relieved to see the startled face of Mercer.

"Geez, man." he muttered. "Don't shit yourself, damn."

I laughed. It was mostly a hollow laugh, devoid of emotion, but hey, it was still a laugh.

"Sorry. What is it?"

To my sheer delight, he produced a small item from behind his back. Well actually, it wasn't that small, but it was smaller than my gun, so I considered it small.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you're thinking it's a standard-issue MXL30 grenade launcher, then yes, this is what you think it is."

I took the grenade launcher from my hand and attached it to the front of my gun.

"Where did you get this, man?" I asked ecstatically, clearly unable to hide my feelings.

"I swiped it from one of the army men earlier."

"Well, this will definitely affect the score." I said, marveling at my new toy.

"Should I stand back?" he asked, knowing what was about to follow.

"Please." I answered.

"Jill!" Mercer called. "Get over here!"

At the sound of his voice, Jill turned and ran to us.

"What is it?"

"Get the hell back. Jay has a grenade launcher."

"Really?"

She leaned over my shoulder, trying to get a good view at the armament on my gun. I shuddered as I felt her breathing down my neck.

"Wow. No offense, but please, please do not screw this up."

Ignoring her, I pivoted the rifle and aimed it at the incoming monsters.

"Wait!" cried Mercer, as I was about to pull the trigger.

"What's wrong?"

"I just noticed something. Do we really want a grenade going off in an alleyway? And a skinny, crowded alleyway at that. I'll bet that this thing is just about ready to crumble. Bite the dust, literally. You shoot off that grenade and we'll be squished like pancakes when the walls come down."

"Good point." I said, mentally kicking myself for not having thought of that earlier.

The three of us backed out of the alley. Luckily, the zombies weren't on that side anymore, so we were safe for the time being.

"And here we go again." I said out loud, to no one in particular. The zombies were slowly, but steadily advancing. It was either now or never. As my finger hovered over the trigger, I thought about repeating a certain quote from the finale of _Scarface_, but I ultimately decided not to.

The grenade went off with, of course, a deafening explosion. The zombies in the alley were vaporized instantly. Those who were lucky enough to avoid the blast were destroyed when the alleyway collapsed on itself.

"Alright." said Mercer. "Let's get going."

With that, he and Jill turned on their heels and began walking towards Hashbury. Well, fine then. Don't even thank me. I sighed and followed them towards the city.

**1:31 PM**

"We there yet?" I asked.

Jill nodded.

"Yeah. It's right up there," she indicated. "See it?"

"I see it."

A short ways up the street stood the lone Ammu-Nation. You could tell by just glancing at it that the zombies had already been there. The trees and cars nearby were totally demolished. The building down the road had been completely reduced to rubble. As I viewed the building from afar, I wondered what could have done that. The zombies were only armed with their claws. Sure, they were sharp as all hell, but they couldn't bring down a three-story building. Something really big had to have done that. The Ammu-Nation didn't look too good either. The windows were shattered and the walls had dents in them. Unfortunately, this was the least of the destruction.

The three of us strode up to the front of the shop. I stepped forwards and pushed against the door. It didn't budge. I tried again, harder this time. Still nothing. I turned to face the other two.

"It's locked."

"Yeah, thanks a lot Captain Obvious." Jill muttered, clearly annoyed.

I shook my head and pulled my gun from my back. Then, stepping backwards, I fired a few rounds into the plate-glass window that had been built into the door. The glass shattered as it was struck.

"Happy now?" I said, as, one-by-one, we carefully stepped through the newly-created hole.

"Whoa." uttered Jill, taking in the surroundings.

The interior of the gun shop was in total disarray. No, wait, that's an understatement. The broken front door is in disarray. This store, well, it looked like the goddamn Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had come by.

Death: That was totally obvious. Two store clerks lay in one of the back rooms, their bodies bloodied and mangled and their faces contorted into a hellish, torturous appearance. And this whole store just implied "death." It was like, leaping off the dang walls at'cha.

War: Just as noticeable. Guns, glass, wood, and everything else that makes up your typical gun store was strewn all around the shop, or at least, what was left of it. My basement looked better than this. And that was saying a lot.

Famine: Actually, I guess there wasn't any famine going on. But I bet these guys probably wanted a last cheeseburger or something before they were mercilessly slashed to death.

Pestilence: Wait, I don't even know what that means. I bet there's some of it going on in this place though.

Anyways, back to reality.

"Shit, man." Mercer said, in awe. "Look at this place."

Jill stepped forwards, sidestepping the debris that coated the floor. Picking up a pistol from the ground, she held it up to her face and looked it over. She brushed her long, auburn hair out of her face as she tried to get a good look at the handgun. From where I stood, I could see that it was totally destroyed. There were cracks of various sizes all over it, and the bullets that it had once contained were spread all over the ground. She shook her head in disbelief and tossed the gun away.

"Well," I addressed them. "We came here for guns, so we might as well get them, huh?"

Mercer chuckled.

"Good idea. This place gives me the creeps anyways. Let's hurry up."

Jill surveyed the store.

"Wow. Are you sure there are any guns left?"

I shrugged. I didn't know whether to take her question seriously or not. Then I turned my attention to a gun that lay on the ground. I picked it up. Blowing off the dust and dirt, I studied the gun, just as Jill had done earlier.

"Did you find something?" Jill asked, turning her attention to me.

"Sure did. MAC-10, I think."

"Hang on to it." she ordered.

Uh, no shit. Like I'm just gonna toss it out the window.

"Dammit!" she cried angrily, after a few more minutes of pointless searching. "I can't find anything!"

"Neither can I, actually." said Mercer, in a matter-of-fact tone. "I can--" His voice trailed off, as he craned his head in the opposite direction.

"Oh my God." he muttered, as he began heading for one of the back rooms.

"What? What is it?" I asked frantically, as Jill and I went after him.

Holy freakin' shit. I almost pissed myself with glee when we got into the room. Guns lay everywhere. First of all, they looked virtually untouched. And second, they weren't just petty handguns. These were heavy-duty weapons. Assault rifles, double-barreled shotguns, grenades, everything. I hate to say this, but I felt like a kid in a candy store.

"We've gone to heaven..." Mercer murmured, checking out the various firearms that filled the shelves.

"Um, do _those_ look like angels to you?" Jill asked, as she gaped out the window.

Mercer and I looked over her shoulder. Oh shit. There they were, coming up the road. The zombies had found us again. Twenty or thirty zombies, just as before. I began to wonder where these bastards were even coming from.

"Everyone, take a gun!" Mercer commanded, snatching up an AK-47.

"Guard the door, don't go outside, and try not to let any of them in. Hell, don't even let them get close."

He hopped the counter and stuck himself in front of the door. Then he fired.

I glanced at Jill.

"Best of luck." I said, taking another MAC from the shelf.

She gulped.

"Yeah, you too."

She left first, taking a post at the smashed-out window next to the front door. I watched the both of them fire bravely towards the incoming zombies. Their bullets split the air, cutting down the rows of zombies. I averted my gaze and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Then I sighed and gripped both MAC-10s in my hands. Man, they never trained me for this in the academy. Oh well, you know what they say. No guts, no glory.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hmm, I've got 205 views for this story and only 4 reviews. Somebody isn't reviewing...  
Come on, I need reviews here, people!**

**Chapter 9**

**Eric Mercer**

**1:45 PM**

This was insane. A twenty-seven year old guy, standing at the front door of an Ammu-Nation, firing away at a horde of zombies. Never in my life did I think that I would experience this. The thought never even crossed my mind. It was weird, actually. These zombies-they couldn't even think properly. Every ounce of common sense, every bit of brainpower was hopelessly lost when they became zombies. They were the mindless undead, forever doomed to walk the streets of San Andreas. That is, until somebody shoots their head off. Seriously though, I hadn't the slightest thought as to what was coursing through their deformed, psychotic minds. But there was something puzzled me. How could those zombies by the bridge possibly have known that my lighter would ignite the gasoline from my car? I mean, it's common sense to regular humans, but they couldn't have known how to do that. Were some zombies stupid and the other smart? Or were they all "smart?"

I made it an objective right then and there, that the next place we would visit would be ZomboTech. We have to find out more about these things.

"I've got your back, man."

I turned to my left. There was Jay, right next to me, a MAC in each hand.

"Thanks." I replied. "Just stay inside."

He flashed me a look.

"No way, man. I can't get a good shot from here. I'm going outside."

Then, before I could stop him, he hoisted his dumb ass up and out through the window. I couldn't believe what I had seen. Goddammit, I had distinctly said to stay inside. But he wouldn't listen. No. He never listens. Jay Box. The ever-vigilant war hero of our team. It was a mystery to me, how he ever became a cop. His intentions were pure, but honestly, did he have a death wish or something? Aw, what the hell. The least I could do is cover him and keep the zombies back when he reloads his gun.

"Be careful, man." I warned, watching as he climbed to his feet. He nodded slightly, then trained the first MAC-10 on the approaching wall of zombies. Bullets spewed from the barrel of the gun, cutting down zombies from side to side. Still firing with one hand, Jay raised the other gun and shot with it too. I looked to my right side. Jill stood there, blasting away with some type of submachine gun. I couldn't tell what type of gun it was, but from the messy sight of zombie decapitations and dismemberments that it was causing, Jill's gun seemed pretty darn powerful.

Suddenly, she yanked her gun hand back into the window and crouched down onto the store floor, out of sight. At first, I feared the worst, thinking she had been scratched or hit or something, but I was relieved to see that she was merely reloading her gun.

"GET DOWN!" came Jay's blaring voice from outside.

Without as much as a second thought, I dropped to the ground and lay on my stomach. I placed my hands over my head, trying to shield myself from whatever Jay was screaming about. I glanced to the side and noticed Jill had assumed the same position.

Just then, a small, circular object came soaring through the window. It bounced off the wall behind me and came to a stop beside Jill. Right next to her face, actually. She watched the object come to a stop, from the corner of her eye. She took a closer look and screamed.

"Shit! It's a grenade!"

Swooping the little bomb up from the ground, she leaped to her feet and hurled it out the window, just in time. She soon regretted doing so, though, as the grenade struck the unexpecting Jay right in the nose. It plopped to the ground, and he had only managed to get a few feet away before the grenade exploded.

Jill gaped, frozen in horror, as the fiery blast knocked Jay off his feet and flung him through the air. After what seemed like hours, Jay came plummeting back to Earth. He slammed down onto a trash can and lay still. Jill screamed, fearing the worst. She started towards the door, but I held her back. We had to clear the zombies out of the way first, no matter what.

Seeming to be fueled by some ungodly force, Jill shot insanely. Red mist and decayed body parts filled the air as the zombies were vaporized by the chaingun-esque fire. I snapped back to my senses. I couldn't let her do this alone, even if she was kicking ass single-handedly.

"No!" she exclaimed, as I attempted to raise my AK. "Go check on Jay. I'll cover you."

I gulped and nodded.

"Got it."

With that, I raced out the front door. Crouching underneath the hail of bullets, I made my way over to Jay. He was slumped in front of the trash can, his body bent in a grotesque position. I could tell right away that his left arm was seriously injured.

"Christ, man, are you all right?" I asked.

His eyelids fluttered open.

"Ah, shit, that smarts." he muttered, smiling weakly and holding his wounded arm.

"Is it broken?"

"Sprained."

"You're lucky that's all that happened to you. You took quite a hit, you know."

"Really? I was too busy to be consumed by blazing fire and excruciating pain to even notice."

I shook my head. It was impossible. How could Jay have survived a point-blank grenade blast? Well, I guess it wasn't exactly 'point-blank,' since he had run away before it exploded, but still! The poor guy should have been killed. But hey, I shouldn't argue. If he's still alive, then I'm happy.

"We've gotta help." Jay groaned, sitting upright and pointing to something behind me.

"Huh?"

We've gotta help Jill keep the zombies at bay."

"Oh, right. Almost forgot about her."

I spun around and pulled the trigger of my AK-47. The gun chattered in my hands as I fought to keep it steady. The closest zombie was cut in two as the bullets ripped through his midsection. To our horror, the zombie's upper half pulled itself away from the rest of its body and began crawling towards Jay and I.

"Aaahh! What the hell?" I cried, as I shot at the zombie.

It seemed to shrug off the gunfire as it crept closer, its exposed entrails hanging behind it.

"I've got this one." declared Jay, stepping forwards.

Standing over the zombie, he lifted his boot, and with one swift crunch brought it down on the zombie's head. Blood and brain matter sprayed everywhere as the head exploded and the zombie twitched and lay still.

"Ew." Jay muttered, lifting his boot. My mouth dropped open at the sight of the zombie. Brain juice and other weird stuff dripped of the sole of Jay's boot. The zombie torso lay on the ground, which had been painted a deep red by its blood.

"Dude, you really gotta stop getting distracted." Jay said, tapping me on the shoulder and gesturing at Jill. She stood in the window, both machineguns firing rapidly, still as strong as they had been before.

"Come on, you guys!" she called from her post.

I swore to myself as, for the bazillionth time, I pulled up my gun and pointed it at the zombies, who had been reduced to a small cluster instead of an army. Jill and I took out the zombies as Jay suddenly ran back into the store. For a minute, I was puzzled by his actions. Then it hit me. He had gone to get his M4. The one with the grenade launcher.

Jay emerged from the store, his M4 gripped tightly in his hands. For once he wasn't making that stupid pose. Oh wait, there he goes.

Gunfire covered the scenery as we fired upon the monsters, who didn't seem to be giving up. The shots from two assault rifles and two submachine guns ripped through the line of zombies. I sighed. It seemed like we'd been doing this forever. Finally, the last zombie went down, falling into the mass of dead, inhuman flesh which covered the ground. His body made a sickening splat as it landed.

I took a deep breath, taking in the sights that lay before me. The trees nearby had been totally destroyed. Claw marks and bullet holes covered the trunks of the lucky ones. The unlucky ones were little more than just stumps. The nearby buildings were...hell, you couldn't even consider them as anything anymore. When we had first arrived here, the buildings were piles of rubble, with a few upright walls here and there. They had been destroyed by zombies who had just been passing by. The remains were demolished by a whole army of zombies. Zombies who were intent on destruction. The other zombies did shit, compared to the rest of their vicious brethren. Whereas first zombies had destroyed the buildings, the second zombies had sent their remnants to hell and back. Then they spat on them, peed on them, took a crap on them, and ultimately left them in the condition they are now.

"Hey, Eric!"

Startled, I turned around. There stood Jay and Jill, waiting for me to respond.

"You gonna look at that mess all day or what?" Jill asked.

I shook my head.

"No. Let's go."

I stepped past her and headed back to the road.

"We're going to ZomboTech." I stated.

Jay groaned.

"Man, that's all the way on the other side of town! We're walking?"

I was about to respond, but Jill beat me to it.

"Fine." she said, and I sensed that this was the last straw for her.

"You don't wanna walk? Go find us a car. Any car will do. Remington, Greenwood, Savanna, Feltzer – you fucking name it! If you somehow come up empty-handed, however, then shut your ass up and start walking with the rest of us. Because frankly, I'm sick of your bullshit."

Jay shrugged.

"There's a perfectly good car over there."

We all looked. Sure enough, there was an immaculate, seemingly untouched squad car parked on the other side of the street.


	10. Character List 1

**A/N:** Well, I've decided to add a character list, much like the one found in my "Two Bombs" story. That single list was updated with every new character (change), but this time I'm just gonna post new updated character lists every few chapters.

**Jay Box** – A policeman from another city who now lives in San Andreas. He is forced to leave his home state after it is attacked by zombies. Jay acts as the self-proclaimed leader of the group, and occasionally becomes hotheaded.

**Eric Mercer** – He worked as a clerk in the Angel Pine Ammu-Nation. Found Jay Box in his bathroom. He was forced to kill his wife and son after they were turned into zombies.

**Jill Drake** – An all-around "tough girl." She is independent and doesn't like others getting in her way. She was found in San Fierro by Jay and Mercer. She holds a grudge against Carl Johnson (who will be introduced in another chapter. Hopefully I can get his dialogues and mannerisms right this time.)

**Trigger-Happy** – One of three idiotic, incompetent army men. Trigger-Happy was killed by Jay after the former was turned into a zombie.

**Control Freak** – Another stupid army man. He was turned into a zombie, but not killed.

**Soul Patch** – The third and longest-living army man. He was also the only one to not become a zombie. He was killed when Mercer's car exploded and a pipe became lodged in his skull.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Jay Box**

**2:15 PM**

The three of us headed over to the car. I pondered our unusual luck as we moved. What the hell was a police car doing here anyways? I didn't see any cops around. Come to think of it, there were no signs of life at all out here. I began to wonder if we were the only humans left in San Andreas. I quickly shook my head though. No way, I realized. That's impossible. We are _not _the last three humans here. There must be other people, right? But the thing that's getting at me, is why haven't we seen them? Why has no one come to save us? Well, there were those three army men, but they don't count.

Mercer rapped on the driver's door when we got up to the car. Then he peered inside, checking the interior for anything important. He must not have seen anyone in there, though, because he unshouldered his AK and smashed the window in. He reached inside, opened the door, and motioned for us to get in. Good thing we hesitated, though.

A single zombie crashed down from the roof of a building above us. It landed square on the hood of the car, caving it in and sending the back end of the car into the air. The siren began to wail uncontrollably, sending shivers down our spines. What if the zombies heard it? We didn't have the energy to fight them again.

I shook my head. No way would I let this guy destroy our only transportation out of this hellhole. Acting quickly, I gripped the barrel of my M4 in both hands. I swung it with full force, and the stock collided with the zombie's head. He barely had time to blink before the left side of his head was caved in, spreading brains everywhere. The heavy impact sent him sailing, knocking him from the car's hood and into a nearby parking meter.

Jill and I started for the car door. I hadn't even touched the handle yet when Mercer said, "No."

"Why not?" I asked. "The only damaged part is the hood."

Without warning, Mercer raised his AK-47 and shot into the side of the car. The once-shiny doors were riddled with bullets as Jill and I stared in shock and disbelief.

"Aaaahhh! What the fuck?" I cried.

Mercer shook his head.

"I don't want to take any chances. We don't know how much the zombie damaged that car. We could have been killed if we attempted to drive it. Since I just shot it full of holes, that ensures that none of us can drive it." He glanced at me warningly. "So don't try."

"What if it was just a dent? What if he didn't hit anything important?" Jill sputtered.

"What if he didn't? What if we got into that car and the engine fell out?" Mercer asked.

"So? We'd get out and walk!" Jill shot back.

"Ok. What if we got in, the engine was loose, I started the car, and the engine dislodged, flew through the windshield, and smashed you in the face?"

"What if Jay was in the passenger's seat instead of me?"

Mercer thought for a minute.

"Good point."

**2:40 PM**

We'd been walking through San Fierro for a few miles now. Jill was walking silently at the front of the group, while Mercer and I were a few feet back. I took this time to ask Mercer something that had been bugging me for a while now.

"Did you hear Jill earlier?" I ventured.

"When she yelled at you?"

"Yeah."

"So what, man? Don't take it seriously. Truthfully, I think she felt really bad for blowing you up with the grenade, but she didn't know how to express it."

"So she decided to bitch at me about not wanting to walk?"

Mercer shrugged.

"Hey, don't look at me. I'm just as confused as every other guy is, about how the female mind works."

"Nah. You know what I think?" I asked, lowering my voice. "She's a feminist."

"A what?" he blurted.

Right on time, Jill glanced back at us suspiciously, and I turned away innocently.

"A feminist, man! Or at least a lesbian."

Mercer squinted at me. He gave me a look, which seemed to say that he couldn't believe how stupid I was.

"Are you kidding me? A feminist?"

"Uh, sure, why not?" I said. "It is kinda obvious, right?"

"No, you dumbass! I was talking to her earlier. She's just a little bit hostile towards guys right now."

"And why is that?"

"A group of Grove Street gang members gunned down her sister recently. Male gang members, might I add."

Oh. Now _that_ makes more sense. My bad.

"And get this." he added. "One of the gunmen was Carl Johnson. That rich guy who owns like, half of San Andreas and has ties to the Asian triads and the Mafia. Carl Johnson, of all people! Can you believe it?"

"Carl Johnson?" I asked, in total disbelief.

The expression on his face changed.

"Oh, uh, maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"Yeah. Maybe."

We both shut up after that. I became lost in my thoughts. I couldn't believe it. Carl Johnson? My good buddy CJ? He was the one who introduced me to everything when I first moved here. Gave me a house and everything! I mean, I knew he was a gang member and everything, but I didn't know he was capable of commiting such cold-blooded murders. Or maybe I did know. Maybe his kindliness, maybe his instant hospitality clouded my sight. I understood it now. It was all just a ploy to get cops on his side. I mentally cursed myself for having not seen it earlier.

The dull silence was soon split by a low buzzing sound. You could barely hear it, but believe me, you'd notice when silence was broken. We paid no attention to it, but it soon began to grow louder and even a little bit annoying. Soon the sound began to change, from a low buzz to the high-pitched whirr of a helicopter's blades. The three of us froze. Was there really a helicopter flying nearby? We didn't dare take any chances. From a pack on his back (that I hadn't even noticed), Mercer produced a flare gun he had stolen from Ammu-Nation. He leveled it and fired a single flare into the air. Its purpose was obvious. We waited. Waited until the flare crossed the path of the helicopter. Waited until it hovered in place for a few seconds, and then pivoted towards us. Waited until it came closer, closer, descending all the while.

"Yes!" Jill cheered, tears streaming down her face. It was the first thing she'd said in like, twenty minutes. I couldn't help feeling the same way. We were finally going to be free of this god-forsaken place. I swore to myself, that after this, I'd get a new place in Florida. Vice City, even. I admit that I haven't been keeping up with anything that happened there in the last ten or so years, but I know one thing. Nothing bad ever happens in Vice City.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Jill Drake**

**2:52 PM**

I couldn't help but cry. The helicopter was coming to save us. It hadn't even been 24 hours since the zombies attacked, but it felt like days to me. Musta felt like days to the other two too, I bet.

The three of us stood idly on the road, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the approaching helicopter. The Maverick began kicking up dust as it came closer and closer to the ground. Then, it stopped. It hovered in place lazily, just as it had done earlier.

"Hey!" Jay yelled. "Come on!"

The helicopter began to shake lightly, as if someone was walking around in there. Suddenly, like an angel of God, the pilot appeared at the door.

"Hello down there!" he called in a booming voice.

The three of us waved.

"I'll be down there in a sec!" he said. Then he disappeared again. He re-emerged carrying what seemed to be a rappelling cord. He anchored one of the ends to a hook on the floor, clipped the rope to his suit, and lowered himself out. He touched down a minute later.

"Howdy, folks." he greeted, in a deep Southern accent.

"Howdy." Eric replied.

"I can't believe y'all are still alive!" he mused. "Me an' my co-pilot, we been searching for survivors all over this place. Not a soul in sight, y'know. Bodies everywhere, buildings burning up all kinds o' hell.

"Yeah, well, we're like cockroaches. Just can't kill us." said Eric, grinning.

"Now that's a theory I mean to test." declared the pilot.

"What?" questioned Eric, as a look of confusion flittered across his face.

"You see, my co-pilot and I aren't here to save you. We're not even really...oh, what's the word..." he muttered.

"Ah. We're not humans."

I stepped forwards.

"I'm sorry. You're not humans?" I asked, not sure if I had heard right. Well of course I hadn't heard right. But his reply said otherwise.

"That's right. Darlin'."

Without warning, he drew a Glock and shot Eric in the chest.

"Goddammit! Mercer!" Jay exclaimed, as Eric toppled backwards to the ground.

The pilot glared at me, with cold, steely eyes as he spoke in his real voice.

"We're zombies. But you knew that, right?"

Utter fear and terror coursed through my body. Not really thinking at all, I pulled my SMG and wildy fired a hail of bullets into the zombie-pilot's stomach.

"Urk! Arrgghh!" he screamed, as the bullets impacted. Then he grinned evilly. "Just kidding!"

Panicking, I fired again, emptying the bullets into the zombie. He just shrugged them off and continued to advance on me.

"But...but..." I sputtered. "I-I don't understand! Why?"

"You see, zombies are sort of like humans. We too, have different stages of life. We have younger zombies, and we have older ones too. We have weak ones and strong ones. Dumb ones and smart ones. Fortunately for you, I just happen to be a smart, strong zombie. Along with the rest of the new breed of zombies that currently being unleashed onto the streets as we speak."

"So, what, you new guys are more protected against bullets?"

"Well, yes. But we can do this, too." Then he picked me up and, with no real effort at all, tossed me towards Jay and Eric.

For about five seconds, as I sailed through the air, my mind went blank. Jay caught me before I landed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh."

We looked up. The big guy was lumbering towards us. Despite our current situation, I couldn't help but notice that the zombie looked a bit like something out of Scooby-Doo. Acting quickly, Jay reached for his belt, and removed a grenade. He raced up to the zombie, pulled the grenade's pin, and shoved it into the chest cavity that my SMG had created. Snatching up Eric, who still lay unconscious, the three of us took shelter behind a group of trees.

The zombie fumbled for the grenade, but it was too late. He exploded in a hail of blood, guts, organs, and a whole bunch of other gross stuff.

"We're not done yet." said Jay, pointing. Cradling Eric's head in my hands, I followed Jay's finger. The co-pilot zombie had lowered the helicopter to the ground and was now standing next to it, a menacing look in his eyes.

"Oh, shit."

The zombie began to move. Slowly, at first, he came towards us. Jay and I checked our surroundings quickly, trying to find some kind of weapon.

"I've got an idea." said a voice I thought I'd never hear again. Jay and I looked downwards. Eric lay there, and he was alive.

"What?" Jay cried in disbelief.

"Give me the flare gun from my backpack." he ordered me.

I nodded and reached into his pack as he bent forwards. I rummaged around, found the gun, and handed it to him. He nodded and steadied the gun, aiming it at the zombie's midsection.

"Watch this."

He fired. The flare spiraled out of the barrel, catching the zombie in the gut and hurling him backwards. Straight into the helicopter's rotors, which were still spinning. A horrendous shriek spilt the air as the zombie was hacked to pieces.

"And that's the end of that chapter." said Eric.

"But...how..." I sputtered. 'How are you alive?"

Eric lifted up his shirt, revealing a suit of body armor, with a single bullet hole in the center. "Ammu-Nation has everything." he mused.

"Come on." Jay said. "We'll take the helicopter out of here." He stepped up to the helicopter, with its left side was covered in blood.

"Can you fly this?" I asked warily as I followed him into the cockpit.

"Yeah, sure. Did it a few times back home. Nothing to it."

My fears subsided as we lifted gently into the air five minutes later.

**3:10 PM **

I sat quietly in the back of the helicopter, thinking of what it would be like to be free from these monsters. I could see the Gant Bridge looming in the distance, its red towers stretching into the sky. As we neared the bridge, I began to fall asleep. As my eyes started to close, I noticed a quick flash of light coming from one of the towers. A second later, one of the guys exclaimed, "RPG!" and that's when everything went back to shit.

The rocket smashed into the tail of the helicopter, sending it spinning out of control. As we spiraled over the water, Jay handed me a parachute. I put it on and followed he and Eric out of the smoking soon-to-be-waterlogged wreck. As we floated towards the ground, I heard gunfire. The zombies on the tower were firing on us. Jay tossed me an MP5 (how he manages to magically produce this stuff, I have no idea), and the three of us opened fire on the zombies. We managed to hit a few, but our quick descension wasn't helping my aim very much. As I paused to reload my gun, I caught a glimpse of the zombie with the rocket launcher.

"RPG!" I warned the others as the zombie loaded the tube. I raised my gun and fired a hail of bullets at the RPG zombie, cutting him down. The rocket launcher fell from his hands and rolled off the tower, into the bay. I looked to my left and saw Jay and Eric shooting down the zombies, the shots knocking some of them off the tower. It's a miracle we haven't been hit, I thought to myself.

Suddenly I heard the sound of air escaping, and a second later I could tell from my loss of balance that my parachute had been punctured. One...two...three more shots. My parachute was nothing more than a big useless nylon piece of shit. I tried to grab the others' attention, but they didn't notice me. Then I struck the ground, and everything went dark.


End file.
